Who's that?
by nude.erections
Summary: When Blaine turns up at McKinley to get Kurt for their weekend together he finds him being hauled away in an Ambulance. When he shows up at the hospital, none of the New Directions know who he is. It seems Kurt's been keeping his boyfriend a secret.


Blaine raced to his car as the final bell rang at Dalton, signalling the end of the school week.

He'd had his car ready to go for days. His packed bag had been stowed safely in the back seat of his camaro, his iPod charged for the two-hour drive. He'd made sure to pack his over sized hoodie, as he knew Kurt loved wearing it if the weather permitted.

Blaine was hoping it would.

He was excited to get to spend some quality time with his Kurt. They had a whole two days together, and Blaine couldn't remember being more excited for anything in his life.

Burt and Carol, Kurt's parents, were away at a conference, and, if Kurt's stepbrother, Finn, hadn't recently changed his plans, the two boys would be alone for 48+ hours, as Finn was having a gaming marathon at a friends.

Blaine was giddy with excitement.

They weren't ready to go all the way yet, as they were taking the physical aspects of their relationship slow, but, having been together three months, both boys were ready to try… other things.

New things.

Fun things.

Blaine couldn't wait.

Some might find it strange that he was yet to meet any of Kurt's friends; even the wondrous Mercedes was yet to grace him with her presence.

He was pretty darn sure that the name Blaine Anderson would mean absolutely nothing to them. Kurt was… hesitant, to tell the New Directions about Blaine.

Blaine had heard his reasons, and understood them to a point, but they were a pretty solid couple, and could handle any possible fall backs or consequences that might possibly come from telling the group.

Blaine snapped out of his thoughts and turned his attention back to the road, knowing Kurt would berate him if he knew that Blaine hadn't been concentrating 100% on his driving. Having been practically raised in 'Hummel Tire and Lube', Kurt had seen plenty of totalled cars, and was always adamant that one's attention should be focused on the road when driving.

Still, Blaine's mind couldn't help but wonder as he settled in for the long drive, a large smile on his face as his hand tapped away to the beat of Katy Perry's latest hit.

He glanced at the time quickly.

3:07

Perfect. Kurt finished at 5pm, Blaine left Dalton at 3, meaning their schedules coincided spectacularly.

An hour and forty-five minutes later, as Blaine neared McKinley, two ambulances closely followed by a couple of police cars went screeching past him, in the direction of the school.

Blaine's hands tightened on the wheel, as his foot pushed harder on the accelerator.

Curse his mind for constantly jumping to conclusions, Kurt was probably fine.

His mind, however, was in overdrive. Karofsky's bulking face kept flashing behind his eyes, taunting him. Kurt's face flashed up, terrified and vulnerable, like the day they'd met. Kurt was unbelievable beautiful when he cried.

Blaine blinked hard as he reached the street to the school, willing the images to leave him.

He pulled into the lot of McKinley, knuckles white as he gripped the steering wheel. He parked, and flung the drivers side door open, stumbling out and hurrying towards the nearest ambulance.

Kurt was fine.

Kurt was safe.

Kurt was, Kurt was, fuck.

Blaine could see the paramedics wheeling a stretcher out of the school, the students who'd stayed late all craning their necks to try sneak a look.

Blaine's attention, however, was focused on the strip of bright blue material that was flowing freely from the side of the stretcher, dancing in the breeze.

Blaine had given that scarf to Kurt for their one month anniversary.

It had matched his eyes perfectly.

Blaine brought his hands up to his hair, gripping it painfully tight, past caring that his hands were now covered in ungodly amounts of hair product.

'_Size of a dime, Blaine,' _Kurt had always said.

Blaine stumbled forward, trying desperately to get his legs to cooperate so he could get to his Kurt. As he neared the stretcher though, he noticed the size of the person upon it.

They were large, very large.

Karofsky shaped, one might say.

Nothing like the tall, thin, dancer-like physique of his boyfriend.

The stretcher hit a bump, causing the paramedics to wince and slow their movements slightly.

The bump, however, caused a large arm to dislodge from the confines of the blanket it was under, and hang limp off the side.

A thick, letterman jacket clad arm was now hanging freely from the edge of the stretcher.

In the jocks hand, Kurt's bright blue scarf was wound tightly around his fist.

Blaine flinched, halting his slow walk forward.

He looked up at the sky, praying, begging that someone had a similar scarf, and the Kurt was fine.

He looked back down, toward the group of students milling about curiously.

Another pair of paramedics raced into the school as a high-pitched wail forced his attention to a smaller bunch of teens, who were standing off to the side.

A tall blonde girl, who appeared to be the source of the noise, was sobbing hysterically into the shoulder of a slightly shorter brunette.

The contrast between this group and the rest of the students, who were watching with vague curiosity, was obvious.

Glancing back at the distraught group, past the two cheerleaders, he took in the rest.

Blaine recognised two of them instantly.

Finn stood towards the back, like a beacon. He was on his cell, clutching it tightly to his ear with bloodied hands.

Next to him, a tall mohawked boy in a similar state was standing with a hand clamped on Finn's shoulder.

Mercedes was staring at a wall, oblivious to the tall blonde rubbing her back soothingly.

An Asian couple were sitting on the hard cement, arms wrapped around the other as the male tried to sooth his girlfriend.

As for the rest of the group, some were pacing, some were on their mobiles, some were awkwardly trying to comfort others, whilst trying to disguise their pain at the same time.

Blaine knew instantly that these were the New Directions.

He desperately searched amongst them for Kurt, hoping that he was within them, and not lying somewhere within the school, waiting to be brought out on the second stretcher.

The second pair of paramedics hurried out, carrying a much more delicate boy.

Time stopped. Blaine's stomach dropped, his legs went numb, prohibiting him from moving. It was only when Kurt's stretcher was hauled into the open back of the second ambulance that he sprung to life.

"Kurt," he muttered, stumbling forwards, hands rising slowly in front of him, as if they would help get him to Kurt faster.

The ambulance flew out of the parking lot as soon as Kurt was safely inside.

Finn, Mercedes, the tall blonde boy and the mohawked teen were all ushered into the Volvo of a horribly dressed brunette.

The rest of the group split up, those capable of driving carpooling their friends as they rushed after the ambulance.

Blaine shook his head frantically and ran to his car. He sprung into the drivers seat, and sped out of the school, tears threatening to spill down his cheeks.

Bitting back a sob, he wiped his eyes, broke dozens of driving laws, and swung into a parking spot at Lima Heights Memorial not minutes later.

Finn Hudson was staring at the drab doors that his brother, Kurt, had been wheeled through. He glanced back down at his phone.

5:04

Burt and his mom's flight got in at seven.

Burt had dropped everything and booked two unreasonably expensive tickets to get back to Lima as soon as possible.

Kurt meant everything to him.

Carol and Finn were his family too, but Kurt was, and would always be, the most important person in Burt's life.

Just like Finn was in Carols.

He slid his phone open and closed, open and closed, before looking over to his worried group of friends, smiling sadly as Rachel caught his eye.

His head whipped back around, towards the entrance, as a short, curly haired teen burst through the doors, eyes red and face distraught, he raced over to the hospital reception.

"Where's Kurt Hummel?" he demanded, placing his hands on the desk before her.

"He just went into surgery, he should be out in half an hour or so," she replied with a tight smile.

The boy turned, jaw clenched, and began pacing the floor, muttering quietly to himself. The New Directions and Mr Schuester, who'd arrived shortly after the group, watched him curiously, all wondering who this boy was and what his relationship with was Kurt.

Blaine pulled out his phone, flipping it over and over in his hands, as he deliberated whether or not to call Wes and/or David.

They would like to know, and Blaine would be better off if he had them here for support. They knew him, they knew what he needed to hear, knew what to do and say to calm him down. Without them his thoughts would run wild, conjuring up a number of different scenarios that involved Kurt's death, and his subsequent revenge on Karofsky.

Blaine was angry, extremely angry. What he wanted, almost as much as he wanted Kurt to be fine, was the chance to wrap his hands around Karofsky fat throat, and squeeze until he had the pleasure of feeling the life slowly drain from him.

As Blaine was struggling internally with himself, fists clenching and unclenching at his sides, the doors from the surgical ward swung open, and Karofsky was wheeled through, with nothing but a few stitches, a bandage across his nose, and some minor bruising.

He was escorted by a police officer, who, for the most, looked bored, his eyes lazily flickering to the jock every few moments.

Blaine tried to control his temper, respecting the fact that they were in hospital, but the bastard smirked, _smirked,_ at the New Directions.

He strode toward Karofsky, the New Directions all taken aback by this apparent strangers reaction, "What the fuck is wrong with you Karofsky?"

Karofsky's eyes turned to Blaine, lighting up with recognition.

"He's a faggot," Karofsky smiled cruelly, egging Blaine on

Blaine lunged at him, growling as the police officer stepped in his way, grabbing Blaine by the shoulders, and shoving him back.

Karofsky was wheeled out of sight, and Blaine turned, pegging his phone at the wall, shattering it to pieces, and making all of the New Directions flinch.

Blaine pulled in a couple of deep breaths, and simply walked over to said wall, slumping down against it, and resting his head between his knees as tears slipped down his cheeks.

After a few moments, as Blaine's tears slowed and his breathing calmed somewhat, a person approached, heavy footsteps giving them away.

"Hey, are you alright?" A voice asked quietly.

Blaine took a deep breath, licked his lips, and looked up, into the eyes of Finn.

Great.

"I'm fucking amazing," he replied, sarcasm dripping from his voice, "and you?"

Finn backed up a little, and raised his hands as a sign of peace, "dude, I know your upset, but there's no need to take it out on me."

Blaine pushed himself off the wall slowly, standing and glaring up at the taller boy, voice full of venom and eyes narrowed, "Aren't you Kurt's step brother?," he stepped forward, "Kurt told me you were going to look out for him. He told me he'd be fine with you there! That I was worrying too much." Blaine's voice rose in volume with each word, until the entire room could hear him.

Finn stepped back, rubbing his hands together anxiously, and glancing back at his friends, "He went to the toilet dude, I wasn't going to follow him," he answered, visibly upset at the truth behind Blaine's words.

"How long did it take for you realised something was wrong, huh?," Blaine threw his hands into the air.

"Fifteen, twenty minutes?" he continued, "Surely you must have thought that he was gone for too long? Surely you could have gone to check on him? He trusted you to watch out for him, he trusted all of you," Blaine said, staring down each member of the New Directions, teacher included.

A majority of them stood, anger and disbelief mirrored on each of their faces, "What gives you the right to accuse us of not looking out for Kurt?" Mercedes demanded, hands flying to her hips as she glared him down, "We love him. We're a family."

Blaine laughed hollowly.

Mercedes' glare intensified.

"Who are you, anyway? "

"Blaine Anderson," Blaine replied, shifting his gaze to the tiny blonde, who'd spoken up.

"And how do you know Kurt?"

A small smile formed on Blaine's face, nearly all traces of anger evaporated as he remembered that day on the stairs.

"He came to spy on us, the Warblers, I mean."

He remembered how Kurt had smiled at him; eyes wide and alight as Blaine sang Teenage Dream.

He only wished that he would see that beautiful smile again.

Blaine went back to his wall, and slipped down it again, picking up the battery of his shattered phone to keep his fingers occupied.

The New Directions still weren't clear on Blaine's relationship with Kurt, but they could see that he wasn't planning on talking to them again any time soon.

So Finn went back to his group of friends, taking Rachel's hand, and pulling her into his lap as he sat down.

Mercedes was still raging.

"Who the hell does he think he is? Coming in here and accusing us of ignoring Kurt."

Rachel glanced at her briefly, before picking up Finn's hand a playing with his fingers. "Do you think he might be Kurt's boyfriend?" she asked them all.

Mercedes froze, and spun around to face Rachel. "Nah-ah, hell to the no, Kurt wouldn't keep that from me," she glanced back at Blaine, who was tapping on his thigh to only a beat he could hear. "Besides, he doesn't really seem Kurt's type."

Finn frowned, "Kurt has a type?"

Mercedes turned to him, dubious, "Seriously, Finn? Remember his crush on you?"

Finn shifted under Rachel awkwardly.

Mercedes raised an eyebrow at him, but continued, "And earlier this year, his tiny little crush on Sam?"

Sam's head snapped up, "Wait, what?"

She waved him away with a flick of her wrist. "Both of you are tall, and jocks." She glanced back at Blaine again, gesturing gently with her thumb, "that boy is neither tall, nor jock like in appearance."

Rachel hummed, still uncertain.

They sat quietly, each wondering if, despite Mercedes' points against the argument, Blaine might in fact be Kurt's secret boyfriend.

It hurt them all to think that he might've been keeping someone so obviously important from them.

An uneventful half and hour later, the door from the surgical wards were pushed gently open, and an awake, yet drowsy Kurt was wheeled through them.

Everyone shot up, out of their hard plastic chairs, but stopped short.

The left side of Kurt's face was black and blue. His eye was swollen shut, and a small cut was situated just under his eye. His right arm was in a cast, and only he knew what was going on under the light blue hospital gown.

Kurt only had eyes for one though.

He searched out Blaine, knowing without a doubt that he'd be there.

Kurt's eyes eventually landed on him, his drowsy state making it hard concentrate on any one thing for too long.

Kurt was scared. Not of Karofsky, but of Blaine's reaction to seeing him in this state.

He feared Blaine would be disgusted by his appearance. Kurt had made sure that, previously, every time Blaine was around, his hair was meticulously coifed, his skin perfectly moisturized, his clothes, unwrinkled and flattering.

Now, he was lying in a shapeless, blue, hospital gown. His hair lay flat against his head.

Kurt looked down, tears brimming in his eyes.

He'd never be good enough for Blaine, even when he was at his best.

Blaine, on the other hand, took a tentative step forward, pushing through the wall of New Directions, and reaching for his boyfriend's hand. Kurt didn't respond.

Kurt thought he didn't deserve Blaine. Blaine was perfect, while Kurt was far from it.

"Kurt?" Blaine questioned quietly, stepping closer as to look in his eyes.

Blaine had always said his eyes were the key to his thoughts.

Kurt shook his head slowly, turning from Blaine, and trying to ignore the pain that ripped through his skull at the simple movement.

The doctor said a few quick words to Finn, before wheeling Kurt down the adjacent corridor and into what would be his room for the next however many days.

New Directions followed silently, ignoring the receptionist, who was calling for them to stop, as only four visitors were permitted at any given time. They all gave Blaine questioning looks as they passed. The mohawked boy shouldered him roughly as he passed, glancing back, satisfied smile adorning his face as Blaine stumbled into a wall.

Blaine frowned, pushed himself off the wall, and trailed slowly after them, halting in the doorway as he watched Kurt's friends crowd around him.

Finn was sitting by Kurt's bed, phone in his hand, holding Kurt's tightly with the other. Blaine couldn't help the jealousy that rolled through him. He should be the one comforting him, holding him, trying to take the pain away.

Kurt looked up, as if sensing Blaine's presence, and fresh tears began to fall.

"What have you done?" Puck questioned, standing with Finn, Sam and Mike.

If Blaine wasn't so occupied with the fact that four boys, each of whom were easily double his weight, were staring at him menacingly, he would have been happy that Kurt had some real, honest to God friends who appeared to care so much about him.

"I, I haven't done-" Blaine tried, but Puck took a step forward, flexing his 'guns' threateningly.

"Don't mess with us prep boy," Sam said with a glare, stepping closer.

"Boys," Mr Schuester warned, stepping forward slight, watching Blaine cautiously.

Blaine looked over at the rest of the New Directions; each had a protective look in their eyes, as they huddled defensively around Kurt.

Mercedes was downright glaring from her spot beside Kurt's head.

_If looks could kill.._

Blaine tore his eyes away from them, looking back into his boyfriends beautiful face, "Kurt?" he questioned, voice small and defeated.

It broke Kurt's heart.

Blaine took a step closer, but so did the larger boys.

"Can I just talk to him alone for a minute?" Blaine pleaded weakly.

"We're not going anywhere. Whatever you have to say you can do so in front of us," Mercedes replied, running her hands through Kurt's hair as she eyed him dangerously.

The room's occupants held their breath, waiting to see what this stranger wanted with their Kurt.

Blaine took a deep breath, and stepped forward, eyes locked on Kurt's, who was watching him doubtfully.

"Kurt, why are you shutting me out? I love you," Mercedes eyebrows shot up past her forehead. The rest of the group mirroring her shocked expression. Besides Rachel, who smiled happily.

"I know you love me too," Blaine continued, taking another slow, deliberate step forward.

He pulled in another deep, shaky breath, aware that he was proclaiming his love to Kurt in front of a group of relative strangers, who were staring unabashedly between the two.

"Please, Kurt, don't do this to me, to us. Let me help you."

He took a final step forward. The girls crowded around the right side of Kurt's bed shuffled out of the way, Quinn tugging on Mercedes arm, as they deemed Blaine safe around Kurt.

They fell back in line with their friends and Mr Schue, who, although surprised by the turn of events, were happy for Kurt. He needed someone.

Blaine waited, room silent as they watched Kurt, waiting for his reaction, for his decision.

Kurt raised his hand, reaching tiredly for Blaine, who quickly grabbed it with both of his own, and brought Kurt's hand up to kiss his knuckles gently.

They didn't say anything, just stared into the others eyes with a look so intense, so full of love and trust, that the group believed they were intruding on a private moment.

Finn shifted his weight awkwardly. He was happy for Kurt, he truly was, but he just wasn't used to seeing this kind of affection between to guys.

Kurt broke the silence, whispering hoarsely, just loud enough that it reached even the farthest corners of the small room, "I'm sorry Blaine, it's just you're so perfect, and handsome and I'm just Kurt, some weak, pa-"

Blaine leant back, dropped Kurt's hand, and grabbed the sides of his face gently, avoiding any bruising as he leant his forehead gingerly against Kurt's. "You're anything but weak Kurt Elizabeth Hummel. You're the bravest person I know. Why do you always put me on a pedestal? I'm not perfect, not by a long shot."

"Blai-" Kurt began, but was cut off with a light kiss.

"Shh," he smiled, "no more arguing," he said kissing him again.

Kurt responded happily, momentarily forgetting the other occupants in the room. Blaine pulled away, resting his forehead on Kurt's again, "I love you."

"I love you too."

Finn coughed awkwardly, "Guess I'd better start working on my big brother speech."


End file.
